Wonderful City of Sin
by Always RuroKen
Summary: The year is 1925. Aoshi is a spy, coming home to Yokohama from his job in Shanghai after five years of absence. Misao is so happy to see her Aoshi-sama come back home, yet why is it that he's leaving so soon again? (I may or may not continue this one.)


Important Decisions, 'Spy Stuff' and Unnecessary Kung Fu

 _Yokohama is much different than Shanghai._ That was what Shinomori Aoshi thought as he stepped off the ship and onto the cobblestones of the harbor road.

A cold ocean wind blew his trench coat and his hair as he continued down the road, the streetlamps lighting the damp cobbles. Only one suitcase he had – a small one, to boot. He was a man who travelled light and would not be staying in the city for long. _Only long enough to visit the Aoiya and see Okina and the others. See how much our Misao has grow-_

 _Wait._ He stopped walking, poleaxed at the thought. _Oh god. She's twenty-one now, isn't she. I have been away for a long time. Too long a time._ Aoshi let out a sigh, his breath misting in the cold air. _And I will be leaving again soon. Misao will probably spear me._

A fond glint appeared in his narrow blue eyes and he stopped on a bridge, lighting a cigarette, letting out a stream of sliver smoke into the indigo sky. _A pity Hannya and the guys could not come, they miss her just as she misses them. But those damned geezers Okubo and Kawaji – and that annoying wolf Saitou have assigned them another mission. A surprise that I_ could _get some 'off time' to visit home. They've probably got something planned. After all, they said they'd arrange my trip back to Shanghai._

He caught a cab to the Shirobeko restaurant and had a cup of green tea there before he walked the familiar path to the Aoiya, the inn where the people he wanted to see were waiting. Before he reached the door however, it opened, a yellow shaft of light almost blinding him, and a small braided figure jumped at him, tightening slim arms around his middle with a loud squeal. " _Aoshi-sama-a_! _You're_ _back_!"

Aoshi almost dropped his suitcase and fell backwards onto the path, but he caught himself and patted the girl's head. "I'm back…" he managed. "…Misao." Then he winced. "Misao, I missed you too, but if you hug me any tighter, my ribs will break."

Embarrassed, the girl with the braid jumped back, quickly letting go. With the light of the Aoiya behind her, she seemed to almost glow, her smile wide and happy. She laughed. "Aw, sorry, Aoshi-sama! I'm just…" she looked down, a slight blush on her cheeks. "…Real happy to see you!"

A few more figures stepped outside, standing behind her. "Okina." Aoshi inclined his head to the old man. "Shiro, Omasu, Okon, Kuro."

Stroking his goatee, Okina smiled. "Welcome back, Aoshi. Welcome home." He said.

Aoshi nodded. _Home, huh?_ "Aa. Thank you."

Okina's gaze intensified and he seemed to be thinking hard and heavily. "…Just tell me something, Aoshi." He finally said. Then, he pushed Misao out of the way and leaned closer to Aoshi. "Are the girls in Shanghai pretty?" he leered.

A vein twitched in Misao's head.

***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***

Later, they all sat around the dinner table inside the Aoiya, Aoshi at the head of the table, constantly being poured more tea by Misao, the others sitting and listening, Okina rubbing a few new bumps on his head. "…Unfortunately, Hannya and the others cannot come." Aoshi was saying. "They are on business – and where I have managed to get time off, they unfortunately have not. Hannya and Shikijou are in Russia at the moment, while Beshimi is taking care of things in Shanghai and Hyottoko is on a stake-out in Hong Kong. As for me, I will not be staying here for long. Two weeks and I will return to Shanghai by ship once more."

Misao almost dropped the teapot she was holding. "W-what?! B-but Aoshi-sama! You just came _back_! You've been gone for five years and then you leave home _again_? Two weeks… That's barely _anything_!" she sounded angry and disbelieving, but more than anything, she sounded sad. "That's not even… Fair."

Okina raised an eyebrow. "Your work in Shanghai is not finished? We assumed you were coming home for good – the others following soon after."

Aoshi shook his head and lit a cigarette, shifting his weight on the tatami. "At this time especially… It is difficult." he said. "About a year from now there will be many more things to do." He looked at Misao. "I apologize. I want to stay here for longer, but I still have work." He spoke gently. "Did you get my present?"

Nodding, Misao tried to smile. "Yeah! Thanks a lot!" she pulled out the ornate jade pendant with a carved cat from the front of her shirt. "It's super pretty!" She pulled her knees to her chest, leaning her back against the wall. Aoshi noticed she had a rip in the rolled-up cuff of her left trouser leg and a bandage around her right calf. "How _is_ Shanghai? I've heard stories about it… It sounds… _Amazing_."

"I don't know. I suppose it is, in a roundabout sort of way." After a long puff from his cigarette, Aoshi looked up at the ceiling. "Gangs. Drugs. Corrupt officials. Blood in the gutters. Prostitutes and hired killers. Sometimes both." He shook his head. "It is a city of sin." He blew a thin string of smoke thoughtfully up, watching as gray strands of smoke wove together and melted into the air. "Foreigners, everyone speaks different languages. Businesses expand, unlikely alliances are made… Some parts are not as bad as others. There are tea shops… Restaurants with food that seems too ridiculous to exist. It is prosperous in a strange way. Everybody is invested in that city. Businessmen, politicians, military commanders, mobsters." He stubbed out the cigarette. "It is the city of the future." He said.

Misao's eyes were wide. "Whoa…" she said, awestruck.

Aoshi shrugged. "Maybe you'll go there one day when you grow u-" he began gently, then stopped as Misao looked at him. _What_? _Oh._ _Shit. She's twenty-one, damn it. Remember that. Well, I screwed up._ "Ah…That is…" he said, taking a gulp of tea. He cleared his throat.

Omasu and Okon tittered behind their hands, while Kuro looked very interested in the ceiling, pressing his lips together not to laugh – and Shiro put a fist to his mouth to keep himself from chuckling. "O-okashira…" he managed through snorts. "Misao-chan's twenty-one now…"

Okina gave a guffaw. "Oh, you've been away for _far_ too long, Aoshi!" he exclaimed, slapping the embarrassed blue-eyed man on the back. "Our little Misao isn't so little anymore!"

"Jeez, Aoshi-sama!" Misao sounded a mix between amused and offended. "Time doesn't just stop somewhere when you leave!"

 _No. …Indeed it does not._

***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***

Aoshi stared up at the ceiling in his room, unused to sleeping on a futon in a traditional Japanese room in such a way. These paper screens for walls, the soft tatami and cold floorboards, the sliding doors… They were all so familiar yet so strange.

Like Misao. Except for her, nobody had changed much. Okina was still a skirt-chasing old man, Okon never changed from her sarcastic self, Shiro still fidgeted. Like always, Kuro made jokes nobody could bring themselves to laugh at, Omasu was still a bit of a prude. But Misao… _She was sixteen – almost seventeen when I left. She's an_ adult. _How am is supposed to deal with that? I can't just give her a sweet and a pat on the head anymore._

Unable to sleep, he sat up and lit a cigarette, watching tendrils of smoke snake through the air. What he _really_ needed now to set his mind in order would be some green tea. However, Aoshi felt _wrong_ going down to the kitchen of the Aoiya at one o'clock in the morning and making himself tea. This had been his home for many years but… Now he felt as if he were a guest. _And guests don't just start making tea in other people's kitchens at one o'clock in the morning._

There was a knock at the door, interrupting his thoughts of tea. He could see a small shadow with long hair against the screen. "Misao. What is it?"

She slid the door open a little and leaned against the frame, a light housecoat thrown over her thin white pajamas. "You can't sleep, Aoshi-sama? I can't either." Misao smiled, beginning to braid her hair. "I'll bring you tea? I already made some."

He nodded. "Aa. Thank you."

Misao returned quickly with a tray. Pouring him tea while sitting cross-legged in front of him, she voiced a question. "When are you coming back home for good, Aoshi-sama?" she sounded almost resigned.

Aoshi thankfully took the teacup from her and drank. "I have no idea. That's in the hands of my… 'Higher-ups'. It could be two years, could be ten. They told you what I'm doing over there, right?"

"Yeah. You're a spy for the Japanese government. You pose as a photographer and private detective. A lot of the time, the cases that come to you have something to do with the spy stuff, right?"

"Spy stuff?" There was an amused twinkle in his icy blue eyes.

Misao blushed. "It's not that I don't know what a spy's job entails… I've done a few small jobs here in Japan what with the information shop and stuff." she said. "I just don't know the right _words_ for it, y'know?"

He tried to hold back his surprise. "Okina let you do that?"

"I started four years ago, a little after you left." She said happily. "Haven't failed once!" Misao looked at him sharply, but her words were calm. "What do you think all that training was for when I was a kid, Aoshi-sama?"

"…Ah. I see." Aoshi said. Looking up at her, it seemed as if his eyes were boring into her, trying to be able to see her entirely. _But I can't._ "…I'm sorry." He said. "If this was not my job, you wouldn't have to be doing this." He drank more tea.

Misao shook her head. "No… I chose this. Jiya kept asking me. He knew it was not what he wanted… Not really what you wanted either. He kept asking me, _'Is this really what you want, my pretty Misao?_ '" she smiled sadly as she recalled it. "He said… ' _Once you start, you cannot go back_.' And I don't want to. I never will." She looked up at Aoshi and smiled. It was the same smile she had smiled when she was five years old and he gave her the birthday present of a teddy bear. The same smile she smiled when she was ten and he had taught her how to throw a knife, and she had hit dead-center on the target on her fifth try. The same smile that she smiled when she was sixteen years old and he had returned from Shanghai for the first time. And she was smiling, twenty-one years old, sitting across from him on the tatami of his room in her bathrobe, explaining to him that she had chosen her way of life. _This_ life. "I don't regret it at all, Aoshi-sama!"

Slowly, Aoshi nodded. "I understand." And he did. Or at least, he thought he did.

Carefully beginning to speak again, Misao poured Aoshi another cup of tea. "When you leave… In two weeks…" her hands shook as she set down the teapot back on the tray. She looked up, her sea-green eyes clashing with his icy blue ones. "Please take me with you, Aoshi-sama!"

"…Misao… That's…" he hesitated. "Out of the question." He finished sharply.

Misao crossed her arms. "Just now… You said you understood. Can you please understand that I am not a child to be protected anymore? Time doesn't stand still when you leave for five years, Aoshi-sama." A tone of pleading entered her voice and she leaned forward. "I'll prove to you that I'm capable! More than capable! I've improved!"

Aoshi tried to reason. "This... I cannot. Shanghai is a dangerous city. You will miss Yokohama. What will you do, living in a photography studio with a bachelor detective who is never home? Misao, I come and visit. I send letters. Who knows? In a few years, I may be sent home for good."

"The last time you 'visited' was five years ago. You stayed for six months and then packed up and left for Shanghai again." Misao stood up. She lifted her chin. "Aoshi-sama… I can be useful. Even though Yokohama and Shanghai will never compare, I have learned a lot while you were gone. I've gathered information for the police, government, army and yakuza alike. I've been to the darkest parts of Tokyo, to the Kyoto underworld, to the Asuki-gumi's headquarters in Kyoto. Please, Aoshi-sama!"

Standing also, Aoshi faced her. "I can understand you have gathered experience, Misao. I truly am proud of you. But this is out of the question. I apologize." Misao looked away, biting her lip, not seeing the truly remorseful look he had for a few seconds on his usually expressionless face. "…You are… Needed in Yokohama."

"…I see." Her voice sounded strange to Aoshi. _Why doesn't she scream and rage? I can see she's angry. Why doesn't she explode at me?_ "I apologize for disturbing you so late at night, Aoshi-sama." She picked up the tray and left – a faint scent of the bitter green tea the only thing that gave any sign that she had been there.

Aoshi sat heavily down on his futon and lit a cigarette. _Why can't I understand her? I thought I did. Maybe… She's right. But… It would be simply wrong of me to take her to Shanghai. The Oniwa Kikan do dangerous work. I cannot allow anything to happen to Misao. She can understand so many things… But when it comes to that… What am I supposed to do?_

 _It's like there is a different woman who looks like the little Misao of five years ago… And I don't know what to do with her._ With a sigh, he lay back, his arms folded behind his head, the cigarette clenched in his teeth.

***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***

The days passed in a sort of strange haze, during which Aoshi tried to make up to everyone at the Aoiya for the times he had not been there. He cooked breakfast, getting up at ' _stupid o'clock in the morning_ ' (quote courtesy of Misao) to do so. He cleaned the entire inn from top to bottom – all himself. He bought Misao any weapon he could think of – and spent as much time as he could training with her.

As the first week passed, the first day of the second week came – and with it, a sort of unease. Aoshi continued as usual, but spent more time confined to his room or walking the city. On the third day, Okina invited Aoshi to sit with him in his rooms, to talk of something over tea. As they sat at a low table, the shoji open to the garden, Okina poured himself and Aoshi green tea that Misao had just come in with. Once she was gone, Okina fixed Aoshi with a stare. "Remember what I said? About Misao?"

"About Misao?" Aoshi looked back, confused as to the situation.

"So, you don't."

Aoshi looked at him questioningly.

Okina continued, his tone light and informative. "She graduated university with a bachelor's degree in linguistics… At such a young age, too." He shook his head. "There was a time when she had to board a train in disguise for some reason… Had to do with some… _Issues_ that two big Yakuza syndicates had with each other. I'm pretty sure it was the Asuki-gumi and the Washimine-gumi – not that it matters." He shook his head again. "Couldn't recognize her at all. My pretty Misao – and _I_ couldn't recognize her."

Another gulp of tea from Aoshi. "…Really."

"Oh yes!" Okina smirked invisibly into his beard. "On the shooting range… She has a perfect aim. Her knife throwing, you know – you taught her this more than anything else, she almost _never_ misses."

"…I see." Aoshi shifted uncomfortably on the cushion.

"So, do you remember what I said? What I said was – ' _Our little Misao isn't so little any more_ '." Okina said, taking a sip of tea. As if by the way, he added; "You know, the young mind is amazing. To think that in _five years_ Misao-chan has learned Mandarin Chinese fluently… As _well_ as English?" With a laugh, he drank some more tea. "Well, her English pronunciation is a bit… Off, but her Chinese is perfect. Writing and speaking both mastered like a native."

This time, Aoshi was taken off guard. "Really? Both Chinese and English?"

Okina's smirk widened. "Currently she's learning Cantonese, Korean and Italian… But she's not as far along with that as she is with everything else. Oh, don't get me wrong, she understands more than she can speak – and she can speak quite a bit – but she isn't speaking it _exactly_ like a _native_. She seems to have a certain _thing_ for languages." He sighed. "Ah, to be young."

Aoshi thoughtfully finished the tea in his cup. "Hm."

"Hm indeed." Said Okina.

They sat in silence for a while. Aoshi pondered Okina's words and Misao's words the night he had come back when she had brought him tea at one o'clock in the morning. "…Okina." He said. "Are you trying to convince me? She's talked about this to you, hasn't she."

Okina laughed. "Oh no, no! By no means. Paper walls are just _that_ thin. A downside to being back in Japan, no?"

Aoshi raised an eyebrow.

"It's not like I'm trying to _convince_ you… But… Do you have a secretary? You probably need one." he sipped tea nonchalantly. "Are you sometimes one man short on missions? I mean, even _you_ need help around the house sometimes. Having another person around is not always a bad thing. And living by yourself in a photography studio sounds a bit… Lonely?" he set down his cup. "And on some missions, you might need a woman to infiltrate." Okina shook his head. "I don't know why nobody usually suspects women. It's like nobody expects them to know three languages and be able to hit them with a knife from twenty feet away. Women are rather dangerous beings. Not that I have any ulterior motive to telling you this. I mean, of course, I'll miss Misao-chan. But this is something she wants to do – and she's an adult now so as her guardian I have very little to say in this."

Aoshi began to tap his fingers on the tabletop. "…A secretary…" he mused aloud.

With a leer, Okina leaned closer. "Speaking of women, Aoshi, you still haven't told me. Are they better in Shanghai?"

***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***

Aoshi walked thoughtfully down the hallway the next morning, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt and pulling on his jacket. He had gotten a letter from a certain 'Fujita Goro' (Saitou Hajime's pseudonym when in Japan) – to meet him by the docks at ten in the morning. _These two weeks have passed by just like nothing._

Aoshi adjusted his tie and checked his watch. Nine thirty. Good. He still had time.

He heard small steps behind him. "Misao." He said. _God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Here goes._ He continued in Mandarin Chinese. " _I am leaving in less than two days. Right now, I am going to the harbor in order to meet with a man who will arrange my return to Shanghai._ "

Hearing her gasp, he slowed his pace and turned around. Misao's face was flushed and her eyes were wide. "Aoshi-sama…" in Chinese, she continued as well. " _What are you saying? Are you testing me? I… Still want to go with you. Are you giving me a second chance?_ "

 _Her pronunciation is indeed perfect._ He began to speak in English. " _Do you understand that there will be much more danger than you have ever been used to here in Japan? There will be many unfamiliar situations and I will not always be able to protect you as well as I want to."_

Misao's reply was in slightly accented English. " _I understand. I will take responsibility for myself and my own action._ " She smiled, giving a thumbs-up. " _Now that I am adult, I can protect myself, yes_? Aoshi-sama _doesn't have to protect me anymore._ " her eyebrows drew together in an anxious upside-down 'V'-shape. " _Will you reconsider and let me go Shanghai alongside you?_ "

Aoshi didn't meet her eyes. "I… Don't often change my mind." He said – this time in Japanese. Walking down the stairs, he turned around to look up at her. "But... There is a job opening – a secretary for the Oniwa Kikan back in Shanghai." He smiled very faintly. _Please let me be right._ "I think I know a certain energetic young woman who might want to take the job."

Misao's eyes were like saucers. She opened her mouth then closed it. " _A-A-Aoshi-sama_?! Are you-" He nodded. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. It didn't work. "A-are you saying th-that I can…?"

He turned his back so that she could not see him smiling. "I'm saying that you need to find a suitcase and brush up on your English. You have two days to get ready and don't bring anything unnecessary. If need be, I can buy you whatever you need – in Shanghai." he took a few more steps down the stairs. "…And don't forget that I have a strict 'no giving up' policy."

" _Holy shit_!" Misao whooped. "I'm goin' to Shang-freakin'-hai! Thank you, Aoshi-sama, thank you, thank you!" her thin arms, once more. crushed the breath out of him as she gave his middle a tight hug.

Aoshi winced as her arms tightened. "…Misao, my ribs."

***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***

The ocean had always calmed Aoshi down and somehow helped him think. The smell of salt and the sound of the sea, coupled with the harsh cries of seagulls gave him the feeling that he truly was home. The horns of the ships, the shouts of men unloading and loading on the docks, the clanks of machinery sounded better against the soft swooshing of the waves – and the tall, wide ships with their huge smokestacks looked so much better against the bright blue-green of the ocean.

This was his home turf, yet somehow, he felt like he did not belong. His walk was too careful, his suit too pressed, the gun on his gun-belt feeling too cold and heavy against his ribs. Today the ocean gave him a sense of unease.

He saw a group of foreigners a man and five women – Westerners probably – judging by their yellow and orange hair. He caught a few strains of their conversation. They were English, not American, judging by their accent. " _This place is amazing!_ " one of them, a man with a large ginger mustache was saying. " _I did not know that one could make so many varieties of dishes with simply rice! I must say, these Japanese certainly have a knack for those sorts of things! Not like our own cooks, of course, but rather decent anyway._ "

Aoshi felt some dislike for him. _Brits. Feel like they own everything. Don't look down on rice, dumbass._ As he walked by them he almost smirked. " _We Japanese have a knack for more than just making rice dishes._ " Aoshi said, looking the man in the eyes with a passable imitation of his own accent. " _I hope you have a pleasant stay in_ Yokohama _. I will be polite and not state my opinion on the blandness of England's foods._ " _That bit at the end was probably too much,_ Aoshi thought belatedly.

The man stuttered and the women with him had begun to titter – and when one of them fluttered her eyelashes at Aoshi, he almost rolled his eyes. _Cultures and languages may be different, but Western women flirt exactly like Japanese and Chinese._ Aoshi tipped his hat at them and continued on, turning a corner and walking through an almost empty shipyard.

Aoshi leaned against a wall of a warehouse and glanced at his watch. One minute until ten. _I still hope that I haven't made a mistake, allowing Misao to join me. Okina was right. She is an adult. But still… I cannot help but feel responsible for her._ Just as he was lighting a cigarette, a tall figure in police uniform joined him at the wall. "Shinomori." Saitou greeted.

"Saitou."

Saitou also lit a cigarette. "You're going back to Shanghai by way of cruise ship. The ' _Koyo Maru Yokohama_ '." He smirked, mockingly. "You're going to be a first-class passenger, Shinomori. You must be used to that, by now."

Aoshi nodded, ignoring Saitou's sarcasm. He took a puff. "I'm taking a new agent back with me. You can do a background check if you want, but I can completely vouch for that person. She is highly capable and will prove to be an asset to the Oniwa Kikan and to Japan. Tell Okubo that."

"Hm." Saitou blew smoke from his mouth with a 'fuu' sound. "Is it that Makimachi Weasel kid? We've met before. Sure. Whatever. Okubo'll probably be fine with that. After all, another member of the Oniwa Kikan will be welcome, to aid in the _bettering_ of Japan's _relations_ with other countries." Saitou's voice dripped sarcasm. "So, the 'Koyo Maru Yokohama'. Don't forget." He pulled tickets from his front pocket and handed them to Aoshi. "I got two, just in case."

 _'Weasel'? What's with that._ "Is there a reason for the fanciness?" he asked. "First class passenger on a cruise ship? And how did you know to get two tickets? However _used_ to that I may be, I know that whenever Okubo is nice to anyone, there's a catch." A sharp glance was directed from blue eyes to amber ones. _Okubo is greasier than Saitou's hair gel. When he says something is for 'the good of Japan' I know that his pockets will be lined by the time I am finished with my work._

Saitou shrugged. "And, I don't really know, myself." He said. "Kawaji told me that Okubo said, ' _Keep an eye on all the first-class passengers. Do as you think is right. Don't disappoint me or your country._ '" He snorted, grinding his cigarette into the ground with his heel. "About the tickets, you and the Weasel kid are pretty predictable sometimes. Next time you'll be going back'll be next year. Stay alive on that trip, Shinomori." With those words, he turned and left.

Aoshi stayed there for a little longer, thinking. Then, he too, put out his cigarette and left.

***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***

"I'm going to Shang- _ha_ -i! With Aoshi- _sa_ -ma!" Misao crooned. She laughed, punching the air, remembering the conversation earlier that morning. " _Oh yes! That is correct._ " She sang in English.

Okon looked at her. "You're daydreaming again." She said.

Misao turned to her. "Aoshi-sama's taking me to Shanghai!" she happily exclaimed, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed.

" _Really_? I never would've guessed." Okon laughed. "You've only told all of us that at least… Oh, I don't know. _Fifty_ times?"

In the face of sarcasm, Misao was not daunted. She began to hum, twirling and waltzing around the room with an imaginary dance partner, her eyes blissfully closed. When she bumped into something, she apologized, despite it being a table. She bumped into something again. It was much taller and _warmer_? than a table. A throat was cleared. "Misao?"

Misao's eyes flew open and she jumped back. "A-Aoshi-sama!" she yelped, blushing. "I didn't! Um! See ya there!"

Okon shook her head in mock reproach. "Really, Misao!"

Aoshi cleared his throat again. "Well." He said. "I just needed to say, you'll be there for a year. I'll be returning home from Shanghai at that time too, so if you're sick of China or are unable to stay for certain reasons, you may return home to Yokohama in a year's time. Saitou let me know in advance." Misao nodded eagerly. Aoshi almost smiled. "Also, Okina wants to know what you want for dinner. He says he'll splurge, since it's an occasion."

"Chinese food!" Misao struck a pose that looked vaguely like a Kung Fu stance.

Raising an eyebrow, Aoshi looked at her, amused. "Really getting into the mood, aren't you."

"Yup!" Another impromptu Kung Fu pose.

"I'll tell him."

Misao rose on one leg, her arms bent awkwardly like wings. _Is that like Kung Fu too?_ Aoshi idly wondered. " _Awesome_!" she yelled in excited Chinese.

Aoshi absentmindedly reached out to pat her head, then quickly stopped himself, stiffly folding his arms back into the sleeves of the yukata he wore at home. "I'll tell him." He repeated, then left. _Not a kid anymore._ He repeated mentally to himself. _Not a child anymore. Misao is no child._

***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***

Aoshi sat on the engawa, smoking, watching the ships down on the ocean. The Aoiya was on a hill, facing the harbor, and the lights of the port, the city and the ocean were visible. There was a full moon and the clouds were very thin, dispersed by the quiet, cold breeze.

He could hear the sounds of revelry and shook his head a little. _Okina and the others take any opportunity to get drunk. Some things really don't change_. The shoji behind him opened and then closed.

"Can I join you out here, Aoshi-sama?" Misao asked, a half-empty bottle of red wine in one hand, a glass in the other.

Aoshi nodded. Misao sat down next to him, her legs crossed, her trouser legs rolled up to her knees. She grinned at him. "Don't worry." She said. "I'm not that drunk yet." She held up the bottle. "I stole this from Jiya and the guys so that tomorrow there'll be _someone_ left to run the inn." She poured herself some and took a sip. "…Although, this is some really nice wine." Misao looked at him and winked. "I'd offer you some, but you wouldn't take it anyway, right?"

He allowed himself a small smile. "Correct."

Misao took another sip. They both looked out onto the water in silence, then Misao looked at him. "You're afraid that you made a mistake in allowing me to accompany you to Shanghai." She said quietly. "Aren't you."

It wasn't really a question and Aoshi didn't know how to answer.

"I'll make sure you never regret it." She said. "I will prove to you, Aoshi-sama, that I am no child – and have not been for a while." Her words were spoken quietly and evenly and she turned to him, smiling a little. "I'm easily excitable… I judge people quickly… I still have some childish tendencies. But I guess… That's just me. I can't turn into Yamato Nadeshiko overnight." Misao took a sip of wine. "Also… I've been thinking…" she took another gulp of wine and poured herself some more. "You said you were a bachelor detective in a photography studio, right?"

"…I did." Aoshi nodded, letting a strand of smoke make its way from between his parted lips. "Why?"

"You're absolutely sure about that?" she asked, drinking more. "About the um… _Bachelor_ part? There's not gonna be some cranky Chinese lady popping up when I show up at your place?" She drank more and looked away from his amusement. "…Not that I care, or anything, but I dunno… That'd just be…" she muttered.

Aoshi watched as she poured herself another drink and shook his head, raising an eyebrow. "Unless you count the time Hannya was disguised as a woman for a mission… No cranky Chinese ladies, nor any women of any other nationality or disposition."

Misao giggled at the image of Hannya in a dress, then hiccupped, and chugged more wine – not even bothering with the glass anymore – straight from the bottle. "Promise?" she asked.

Lifting a hand Aoshi nodded. "I solemnly swear." He said – the twinkle in his eyes betraying him as less than solemn. "No cranky Chinse ladies."

"You don't gotta make fun of me…" Muttered Misao setting the empty glass and bottle down. "I was just askin'…" She took the glass and empty bottle as she stood up. "Good night, Aoshi-sama!" she said happily. And with an opening and a closing of the shoji she was gone, leaving Aoshi just a little calmer than before.

***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***00***

Aoshi waited in the entryway, checking his watch. It wasn't that he was anxious to leave. It was just that Misao was taking an awfully long time up there and he was starting to wonder what exactly was going on. He was about to ascend the stairs and tap on her door, to ask her what was wrong – when she came down and things ceased to make sense for Aoshi.

He blinked and cleared his throat, looked away, then looked back again. It still didn't make any sense.

Misao's hair was shorter – her braid gone and her bangs parted differently. She was wearing very slight, tasteful makeup – reddening of the lips, a little darkness on her eyelids, right above her eyelashes – and it made her sea-green eyes seem even more luminous than usual. She wore a dress – a Chinese-style dress called cheongsam. Aoshi's eyes unconsciously drifted to the slit in the side of the silky dress where her leg up to mid-thigh was visible. And she was wearing the jade pendant he had given her. He blinked again. _What the hell- What is she wear- What am I think- This is_ Misao, _for god's sake. What_ am _I thinking?_

"The dress is Omasu's – she let me have it!" he heard her say. She grinned, setting her suitcase down on the bottom step. "How do I look?"

Aoshi opened his mouth and then closed it. "…You cut your hair." he said stiffly and belatedly.

"Yup!"

Omasu and Okon came down the stairs followed by Okina and Kuro, with Shiro coming in from the kitchen. Aoshi quickly tried to regain his blankness, but Omasu and Okon exchanged looks and Okina broadly winked at him. Kuro elbowed Shiro – and Aoshi was glad that Misao had her back to them, remaining blissfully unaware of his thoughts – and those of the Aoiya.

He stood back a little as everyone crowded around Misao, showering her with hugs and advice. Okina gave Misao a bone-crushing hug that the girl returned, then went over to stand with Aoshi. "So…" he said. "Are you catching my drift now?"

Aoshi looked at him questioningly.

Okina shook his head. "If you don't just finally surrender yourself to the fact that she's not a small child anymore, you're going to have a lot more shocks and surprises – and you'll probably feel bad about it." he smiled, slapping Aoshi on the back vigorously. "Take some advice from an old man, alright?"

Not able to answer because Misao had detached herself from Okon's cheek pinch and Shiro's arm around her shoulder and went to stand beside him at the door, Aoshi simply nodded at Okina. He bowed slightly to everyone. "Thanks for your hospitality." he said. "I will take good care of her – and she'll be back in a year, as will I. Thank you for everything, yet again."

Misao was already out the door, lifting her large bag with little effort. "I'll see you all again in a year! Don't worry about me!" she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth. "I'll miss yo-ou guys!" Aoshi joined her on the garden path.

"Take care of her, Aoshi!"

"Remember to write, Misao-chan!"

"Goodbye!"

"Hey, you sure you didn't forget anything?"

"Make sure you know what you're eating before you try anything new! Who knows what's in that weird foreign Chinese food!"

"Stay safe!"

And with that, they were off to the port, a taxi pulling up at the curb, Aoshi having flagged it down.


End file.
